


Beat Report

by OddEyeVibes



Series: "They're Coming To Get You, Barbara" [1]
Category: Dead Rising (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, OC of color, Zombie Apocalypse, semi self-indulgence I guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OddEyeVibes/pseuds/OddEyeVibes
Summary: Barbara Romero is used to getting her hands dirty for a good story. However, this go-round when a string of sick people and disappearing folks lead her back to her hometown of Willamette, she stumbles upon a conspiracy that she couldn't have dreamed of.Denver Slasher be damned.
Relationships: Frank West/Original Character(s), Frank West/Original Female Character(s)
Series: "They're Coming To Get You, Barbara" [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014222
Kudos: 1





	Beat Report

**Author's Note:**

> I uploaded this before but I made some new changes to the whole thing. I'm more into it now even though I said I wasn't gonna think too much about it cause I just wanted this to be more of a fun thingy. It still is, I'm planning on having way too fun with this. 
> 
> I DO NOT OWN DEAD RISING, I ONLY OWN MY OCs

_ 2:22 AM, September 17th, 2006 _

_ Riiing….riiing….riiing.  _

_ “Hi, you’ve reached the Romeros, we’re not in right now but leave your name and number and we’ll call you back.”  _

Barbara dropped her head in defeat as an annoyed sigh escaped her lips. Another straight to voicemail and after calling her parents’ landline three times prior to now, the beat reporter was getting anxious. While she was calling them on her job’s landline, she had her friend and co-worker, Christian Quan on her cellphone line. 

“So??” He asked, his voice was groggy and Babs knew it was mostly because she called him so early in the morning. She knew his wife, Alyssa, was passed out after dealing with their newborn all day by herself. 

“Nothing.” 

“Wanna know why? Because they’re probably asleep, Babs.” 

Barbara rolled her eyes. She knew he was right but there was an immature stubbornness to her that didn’t want to admit it. Especially after the strange email that was sent to her only a few minutes ago. 

_ Barbara Romero,  _

_ You don’t know me and I have to keep my identity a secret because someone dangerous could be listening. I’m sending this message to you because you’re from here. I’m talking about Willamette. There’s something happening and those in charge aren’t being upfront about what it is.  _

_ People are vanishing, hospital beds are piling up, the people are getting scared and worried. I saw your Denver PD expose and I believe you can help figure out what’s happening.  _

_ Please, for the sake of our hometown. You have to help us. I’m worried about what could transpire if left unchecked.  _

_ \- A concerned citizen _

The email was so vague. If making her worry was the sender’s intention, then it worked completely. Barbara was a Willamette native, adopted, and raised there by her parents William and Juanita Romero. William was a retired construction worker while Juanita was a still working nurse practitioner. 

Together they almost raised the perfect all-American girl well...if you ignore the fact the all-American usually means white parents with a pure as a fairytale princess white daughter. Barbara was an honor student and a cheerleader but she was nosey and in a small town, being outwardly nosey was NOT a thing.  _ Peek from behind the blinds like the rest of us _ . 

There were a lot of people she cared about in Willamette. Not as much as her parents, mind you, but there were still a few friends here and there from her school days that she kept in touch with occasionally. That’s when the thought hit her.

“I’ll call someone else!” She exclaimed, forgetting for a second that she was talking to Christian. 

“What?” 

“Oh shit! Sorry Christian, I forgot I was talking to you.” 

“Well, that’s fucking rude.” The man was whisper yelling. 

“If my parents won’t pick up, then someone else will. Where’s my phonebook?” The 35-year-old snatched her black leather purse towards her, pulling out a small white notebook, something she’s had since middle school. Barbara was so chaotically organized, her parents, as well as Christian, were surprised to discover that she kept a phone book from so long ago. 

Barbara casually flipped through and looked over the pages, searching for a name that  _ could _ be reliable. 

‘ _ Trisha Wan _ ? No, she high tailed it out of Willamette for greener pastures after high school.’ Scrolled her finger down. ‘ _ Damien Rhodes _ ?...No I think he’s still in prison.  _ Carson Kilpatrick _ ...maybe he’ll work...if his family’s number still the same…’ 

She then focused her attention back on Christian. “Chris, I’ll call you back. Get some sleep.” 

“Wait--” Before Christian could say anymore, Barbara ended the cellphone call and immediately went into to dial the Kilpatricks’ business number. 

The Kilpatricks ran a bounty hunting business and have been since even before Barbara was born. Barbara did some work here and there for them in exchange for using them as an anonymous source when she ghostwrote for the local newspaper due to not being legal to hire because of her young age. If  _ anyone _ would notice something was up with Willamette, it would surely be them. 

The phone rang a couple of times before the call was finally picked up and on the other end was a woman’s shrill voice. “Welcome to Kilpatrick’s Bounty, where….” Her voice trailed off before sudden movement was heard before she spoke again, this time her voice called from a distance. “Baby, what’s the motto again?” 

There were slightly muffled sounds of another person replying, a masculine sounding voice, before the sound of high heeled shoes running back towards the phone gradually grew louder. “Whew!” The same voice let out. “Ok! Welcome to Kilpatrick’s Bounty, you have the crime, we’ll make sure they do the time~!” Barbara could tell that the lady was very proud of reciting that. “How can I help you?” 

Not really prepared for the segment she just heard, Barbara’s mouth was left open. After all these years....the Kilpatricks couldn’t do professional even if their lives were on the line. “Yeah, my name is Barbara Romero and I was wondering--” 

“WAIT! BABS!?!” 

“Huh?” 

“CHERRY BOMB BABS!” 

Barbara felt her face heating up as terrible memories of that nickname began crawling out of the  _ suppressed memory _ box. “I-uh-” 

“Wow! It’s been so long~!” 

It was at this point Barbara remembered that she  _ still _ had no clue who she was talking to. Almost everyone she went to school with ended up calling her this. “Uhh...and you are?” She didn’t mean for it to come out rudely but it did. 

“Oh my gosh! it’s me, Pam Novak! You don’t recognize me?” 

“Uhhhh….Pam?” 

“Right! Phone call, ignore me. So how’s it been? Heard you moved to Denver to be some big shot reporter.” 

Barbara and Pamela sorta go way back from middle school. They used to be  _ Willamette Junior Honeybees _ together, it was the middle school cheerleading team. Pamela was once referred to as  _ expensive trailer trash _ by some asshole teacher back in the day who lived on the wealthy side of town. It was something overheard and Barbara made sure it reached the ears of Pam’s parents who may or may have not scared the guy out of town. It was something that Pam was grateful for and would lead to Barbara being one of her many NBFFBWBIIHLF. What does that mean?  _ Not best friends forever but would be If I had less friends _ . 

Sometimes during their later high school years, Pam and Carson hooked up. There were rumors circulating around that Pam got knocked up during senior year but Barbara disproved that real quick by reminding everyone that they only assumed that because of Pam and Carson’s backgrounds. Sure it was common for people like them but it was rude to assume. Assumptions don’t make for a good story. 

“Oh, it’s been going...well. I uh..actually was calling Carson but you’ll do actually.” 

“Really? Why?” 

“You still live in Willamette, right? I wanted to check in on something.” 

Pam let out a loud gasp. “Are you doing a story on Willamette? Is the mayor having an affair? This would be the second time something like this happened, right?” 

“No,” Barbara chuckled. “Nothing like that. Actually, earlier tonight I got an... _ interesting _ email from someone anonymous talking about there’s something... _ strange _ happening in Willamette. People going missing, a lot more sick people. Can you confirm that?” 

“Well, I don’t know much about the sick people. The only sick person I’ve ran into is Carson’s mom, Eva. She’s had some sort of flu since a few days ago. Doesn’t seem to be letting up so Carson’s dad had to take her to the hospital. Hey, doesn’t your mom work at the hospital? Why not ask her?” 

“I called a few times, she and my dad didn’t answer, and the missing people?” 

“Oh yeah~. We usually get like one or two people missing cause they skip out on their bail. One time, we found out one of the guys went all the way to Canada. Can you believe that?” 

“So what changed?” 

“Well, now we haven’t even been getting requests to find people who skipped out on bails. Now we’re getting ACTUAL missing persons requests.” There was some excitement in Pam’s voice. 

Barbara was interested. “Really? Why’s that?” 

“Well, Carson’s dad did ask one of the requesters and the lady said that the cops weren’t taking anymore reports. Can you believe that?” 

“Honestly...I can.” With the story of the  _ Denver Slasher _ , Barbara was more than willing to believe that small town cops would turn away reports. “So the people are coming to you know?” 

“Yeah, I think the cops don’t like that though, we got a few weird visits and some phone calls. They’ve been telling us that it’s not our jurisdiction to do all of this and Carson and his dad have been telling them to  _ shove it _ .” Pam and Barbara giggled together. “Well, that’s all I know on the whole thing. It’s pretty much been the same since. Sorry I can’t tell you more.” 

“No, no. You gave me just enough information. Thank you.” 

“So, should we be expecting a visit from a Willamette big star?” 

Barbara felt her face heat up as she let out a nervous giggle. “Maybe. I might have to get in touch with my parents in person since a phone call isn’t working.” 

“Ooh! We should get pizza when you get here.  _ Rizzo’s  _ is still open.” 

“We’ll have to see about that when I get there. It was nice talking to you, Pam.” 

“Bye~” 

The conversation ended and Barbara began trying to put scattered pieces together. 

“Ok...missing people...so many that the cops are even turning more reports away...a lot of sick. This sounds like the start of a pandemic.” Barbara began writing down in a little brown leather notebook. She thought about the email. “But why such secrecy? Surely, if a pandemic is boiling, the best tactic is to warn people. How serious is it? People are going missing but is it related? Could be. Could not be. Could be someone taking advantage of the chaos? But then how would they know about what was going down?” 

She began rapidly tapping the top of her pen against her chin, deep in thought. “What is going on?” 

There was only one option for her: go to Willamette. 

With her mother working at  _ Willamette General Hospital _ , she no doubt is dealing with the influx of sick people. Pam was a big help when it came to the missing people but when it came to the sick, Barbara would have to consult her mother, Rhonda Romero. 

Christian would probably be pissed about her high-tailing it off out of town on a whim. Luckily, she knew she didn’t have to worry about that call anytime soon. He sounded like the Sandman had his claws deep in him. With that being concluded, Barbara immediately began packing for the long drive to Willamette. 

~~**_//////////////_ ** ~~

A week, Barbara decided that her stay in Willamette was going to last a week unless something  _ extremely _ interesting turns up in her investigation. She made sure to pack comfortable clothes only and was happy that she had gotten her hair braided into cornrows styled into a high bun. It would be perfect for any instance where she might have to get her hands dirty, something that Barbara was known for at her job. 

In terms of equipment, she simply brought the essentials. Her notebook which was for taking any notes, obviously. They usually were out of place and sloppy. Anyone who picked it up might have a tougher time decoding the notes but Barbara always seemed to know what past Barbara was talking about...unless the notes were from like 9 years ago, then she’d need a refresher. 

Next was a tape recorder along with a few empty tapes. She often used them to record information that most...corrupted people didn’t want Barbara to right down. This was a tool she made sure not to showcase too often. 

Lastly, there was the small camcorder she carried with her. She wasn’t one for simply using pictures. She felt they were often discredited a little too easily. Sure the same could be said for video but with a photo camera? It was more often and she didn’t have the patience to be dealing with that. 

She was prepared but she still didn’t know for what. A question that plagued her as she filled up the tank to her car. She’d been driving for a few hours now. Her mistake was not filling up before she left. The only  _ big _ thing about Willamette was the mall that seemed to have everything. Beyond that, it was like a water fountain in the middle of a desert. Most teens growing up in the town didn’t think that the mall alone was worth staying in the town like their parents, Barbara would know, she was one of them. 

The point is that if the town of Willamette, aside from the mall, was barren then the outskirts were probably worse off. Such is the case with the run-down gas station Barbara found herself stopped at. She was frustrated. 

“The ONE THING you’re always supposed to check for before making any trips Babs and you couldn’t do that.” She rolled her eyes at her own forgetfulness. “Fuck it’s cold out here.” She muttered as a chill left her body. “Not to mention it’s fucking creepy out here.” Remarking on how dark and empty the area surrounding the gas station was. 

It seemed like prime picking for some serial killer lurking in the woods, casually driving around in a windowless white van waiting for a lone gas station clerk to turn his back. Hm...that was a weird analogy. 

_ Crunch...crunch....crunch _

Barbara felt her body tense up at the sound of gravel crunching under someone’s feet. “Fuck…” She let out under her breath. It easily could’ve been the gas station attendant, probably coming to check on her. ‘He would at least say something.’ She concluded. She began to jiggle the pump, trying to get the last bits of gasoline out of it. 

Once finished, she quickly jerked around, intent on using the gasoline as a weapon only to be greeted by the face of the chubby-faced gas attendant, who jumped in fear, raising his hands in defense. 

“Ahh!” 

“Ahh!” 

‘Guess he wouldn’t have said something.’ Barbara thought. “Jesus kid, trying to give people a heart attack is not how you get tips, this isn’t a Halloween attraction so be careful, ok?” 

The kid seemed nervous. “I-I’m sorry, ma’am! I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to check on you.” 

The journalist calmed her breathing, placing a hand on her chest to aid her. “It’s fine. Just...be careful. There are a lot of crazy people out there. Doing that type of stuff to the wrong person could lead to a trip to the hospital or worse, got it?” 

He nodded. 

Barbara eyed him up and down. “You from Willamette?” 

He nodded again. “Yes ma’am, college freshman.” 

“College? And here I thought you were some high schooler.” 

“I get that a lot. Thanks, I guess. My momma used to always say to take advantage of being mistaken for youth.” 

Barbara chuckled. She gestured towards the empty small building behind him. “You the only one working?” 

“Yeah uhh...well for now. I’m actually waiting for another coworker that’s supposed to be coming in soon to help out. They’re late though. I wonder if they’re gonna end up on the missing person list.” 

“So you know about that too?” 

“Well, yeah. Everyone does. No one’s really talking about it though. I have a classmate who went missing a few weeks ago, his parents had missing posters all over the campus. You from here? How do you know?” 

“I’m actually trying to look more into the whole thing. I’m a reporter, I received a tip about something happening in Willamette and I thought I’d check it out.” 

The boy then had a look of realization on his face. “Wait...I know you! You’re the lady that did that serial killer cop story. That shit was crazy!” 

Barbara smiled, feeling quite pleased at the recognition as she held out her hand. “Barbara Romero and you are?” 

“Thomas Hall! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” 

“Same. So, do you know anything else about what’s happening in Willamette? Maybe something about sick people?” 

“Oh yeah! A lot of people have been getting sick lately. I was only able to take more shifts because most of my classes been canceled on account of most of everyone calling in sick.” 

“Interesting.” 

“My daddy’s been going on ‘bout the end of the world coming. He’s been gettin real cozy with his guns lately...a-and my older brother’s no different.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. Hopefully, you can keep sane during a time like this. Hopefully, I can figure out what’s going on and put everyone at ease. Well, I should probably get going if I’m going to catch my pa-...sources before they turn in. Have a good shift, Thomas.” Barbara nodded to the boy as she hopped back into her car. 

Thomas waved her off, watching the brightness of her rear lights grow dimmer. The boy sighed as he turned heading back into the station to wait for his co-worker. 


End file.
